


GOT7 ships || One Shot Collection

by MoMyMiddleName



Category: GOT7, K-pop
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, Coming of Age, Gay, Loneliness, Love, M/M, One Shot, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-11-28 20:33:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18213281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMyMiddleName/pseuds/MoMyMiddleName
Summary: A bit of everything in the GOT7 ship realm: Fluff, smut, angst and whatnot. I hope some of these stories fit your taste and fill up all your got7 ship needs. Themes will be shown in my thorough tagging as each story is posted.Whenever I get ideas I write and post meaning no update schedule.Feel free to suggest ideas or pairings to me and I will see what I can do <3





	1. Intro

Annyeonghello!

Here we finally are. This is, as you can probably tell, an introduction and not a one shot. I simply wanted to tease that my busy-slash-uninspired arse finally got it together and had an idea that I could carry out properly. I have three half-written got7 one shots lying around that turned out to be messy and oof, I don't even wanna talk about it. Anyways, I finally broke the spell and now I'm BACK! IN! BUSINESS!

I hope you guys are as excited as I am! "[Sins Are for Angels](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12916689/chapters/29512809)" got a lot more attention than I ever expected it to (or it deserved) so I have been so excited to be back with more GOT7 for yall!! <3

The first story is going to be something as basic as Markson. We all know that ship and we all love it so it's happening because the story accidentally turned out that way ;) ~~I'm a very unorganised human being.~~

 

Anyways!! The story will be out in a week tops. I think I can promise you that. Woohoo!

Let's get it, babes. <3

 

See you soon!

\- Freja


	2. Markson - Never Ever/Always Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Mark breaks up with his boyfriend and realises what a big mistake that was.  
> Wordcount: 3,9K

It should have been easy seeing him turn his back and walk away. It was supposed to be a freeing moment when the door clicked shut, locked behind him. It was supposed to be a good, _no_ , brilliant thing. He was meant to feel the air flowing into his lungs again like a tight grip was released from his neck. So, why did he suddenly lie gasping for air, half-naked and crying on the rug that used to be his mother’s as if he could feel her presence in it? The presence he gave up for the unknown. Why was his heart aching bitterly like it knew what a fool he had been all along? Why did it make him feel this pain after leading him to believe there would be relief?

Like the numbing from significant trauma, Mark wanders aimlessly around his home the entire weekend. The sound of his phone makes the hairs stand up on his arms each time as he goes to have a hopeful peek at the screen that disappoints time after time. Mark disappears entirely that weekend. He finds a hiding spot inside himself where only the regret can find him. It is 3 pm on a Sunday when the doorbell rings and Mark shoves hope way down into a hole and seals it shut.

“It’s Jinyoung.” Mark sighs at the expected tone in his friend’s voice. It was only a matter of time before his radar would pick up on Mark’s shitty vibes and he would have to fulfil his duty as a close friend and come check up on him. So, he stands there on Mark’s doormat with a bag full of groceries and empathy despite Mark’s complete lack of sensible decision making. His big round eyes are saddened at the state of his broken friend. “Oh, Mark, I knew it was a mistake.”

“Biggest one of my life,” Mark breaks his silent streak and with that comes tears. Jinyoung drops everything and rushes his friend into his arms with all the empathy still intact.

“I thought you might need some groceries.”

“Thank you,” Mark says weakly as he gives into the comfort that he does not feel he deserves.

 

While Jinyoung cooks up a warm meal, Mark takes a shower by the demand of the guest and there he dissolves under the water until there is nothing left of him but his shell. How was he blind to the fact that there would be this huge hole where his heart used to be? He crumbles up into his towel and drowns in its sea blue colour with his knees under his chin wondering if he will ever resurface. The concept of time is another thing that broke in Mark’s mind as he cruelly ripped out the heart of the love of his life. One weekend has felt more like one week and as his absent heart grows cold, he has no idea how long he sits there before Jinyoung gently opens the door with furrowed brows and consoling words. “I wish I could just call him, you know? And apologise,” Mark says in a shaky voice, “but I broke up with him and I blamed it on _him_. Fuck, what was I thinking?”

“Come here,” Jinyoung pulls him up from the floor and into a hug without any concern for Mark’s nakedness nor the wet towel. “You’re going to be okay. If you two are meant to be, you will find your way back to each other.” If only it were as simple as it sounds.

 

It takes Mark one painful week to break in half and decide to move back to America. It is as tough a decision to make as when he made the one to come here. Back then, he left behind his whole family and all his friends. Now he is doing it all over again by leaving his new friends and the one person he would have liked to call family for now and forever – If only it were as simple as it sounds.

It should have been easy seeing him turn his back and walk away.

“We’re gonna miss you like crazy,” Jinyoung says as he helps Mark pack up.

“You’re getting my flat finally. You should be happy.”

“A great flat or a great friend? How shallow do you think I am?”

“Yeah, I’ll miss you guys too. You especially.”

“I know,” Jinyoung mumbles.

“If you change your mind at any given moment, you should come back here. There’s enough space for the both of us here despite your countless attempts to explain to me why there isn’t – and I wouldn’t mind a flatmate.”

“Thanks, Jinyoung, but I think I’m doing the right thing for myself.”

“I’ve never hoped you were more wrong, Mark Tuan.”

 

At first, the change is refreshing. Back in LA, Mark can spend time with all the people he last saw on his visit home almost a year ago. The one where _he_ came along for the first time. Star of the show, he was. Mark has never seen his parents so keen on a girlfriend or boyfriend brought home by himself or any of his siblings. The way they spoke to him as though he was one of their own never seized to warm Mark’s heart.

Eventually, the buzz of being back wears off and everyday life takes off for everyone but Mark. The presence is missing in his life again; the one that let himself in when Mark was still at work and would make the whole flat smell of delicious bake. The excuse was always “I need the practice,” which Mark never minded because he would get to be the lucky taste tester.

The weekends were the best when it was just the two of them hiding away from the world and sneaking touches back and forth until one of them had enough and the nearest surface became support for the unholy acts that followed. Their bodies would fall limp and they would cuddle on the sofa to some American reality show they could laugh at together.

Now, it has come to the point where even just speaking Chinese, reminds him of the Hong Kong boy he once called his. The way they would switch between their three common languages made them feel uniquely connected; certainly at first, when they met through Youngjae at his birthday party and fell into a deep conversation that they followed up as soon as the next day because that face and the loud laugh to match was engraved so deeply into Mark’s mind that it felt silly not to act on it.

As time passed and they got more comfortable with each other, their differences began to clash. Mark; the quiet introvert would sometimes be overwhelmed by his boyfriend’s otherwise charming excitement. In the end, Mark had convinced himself that there was nothing they could offer each other. As if Mark had been drained by his energetic counterpart **.** In retrospect, it has become clear how much he truly loved Mark and how much Mark loved – and loves – him. In hindsight, it is bluntly obvious how much Mark was just avoiding the inevitable forever that had always scared him so much. He has been here before; the unhappiness that came just as everything was moved in and the idea of forever with it. His own being has experienced the crash from the passenger’s seat when the driver suddenly hits the breaks. Clearly, Mark was even dumber this time around, made the same mistakes and ruined the closest thing to perfection he has ever blessedly had in his grasp. What properly sinks in, one quiet night on the back porch of his parent’s house, and hurts more than the initial blow of his actions, is how the mistakes he swore never to make because they hurt so much, have been made. This time around, Mark Tuan is the one with blood on his hands and he never imagined anything could fucking excruciatingly torture him this much.

It should have been easy seeing him turn his back and walk away.

_“I didn’t like it at all. It was so unrealistic and dramatic.”_

_“It’s supposed to be. It’s a rom-com,” Mark tries to reason, “you’re so stiff,” he huffs to himself._

_“What’d you say?”_

_“It’s supposed to be. It’s a rom-com,” Mark acts and dodges another bullet by the hairs._

_“But, honestly, ‘I’m just a girl standing in front a boy, asking him to love her’ what kind of a line is that?”_

_“An earnest one. She’s laid down her guard for him and he shot her down for something that isn’t even_ real _. I think it’s a hurtful but beautiful moment.”_

_“Yeah, whatever.”_

 

His mother tries to cheer him up the best she can and Mark appreciates the effort. Sometimes it works too but the feeling returns eventually. If not during the day then always in the night time where Mark rereads old conversations and almost see his handsome face before him and feel his presence next to him. Mark is sure he will never meet anyone with a nose that elegantly curved or eyes that cartoonish. His features all piece together so well above that jawline that drew Mark’s lips in so often. His face appears behind Mark’s closed lids and the aching in his heart spreads downward. Realising how long it has been, Mark’s hand travels with it as the image in his head begins to move with him and that soft, deep, breathy voice whispers its secrets into his ear. The silence returns with a bang to the lonely boy who is lonely once again.

It should have been easy seeing him turn his back and walk away.

 

Two whole months have gone by since Mark took the most faulty turn of his life. His heart has grown exhausted enough to let him breathe again. The pain has just subsided to the point where he can see a future that is not just darkness when Mark wakes up to a fateful Instagram post that can only have been purposely posted just to shatter his heart all over again.

Park Jinyoung, his master manipulating friend with a tendency to meddle in any friend’s business as though it were his own. How Mark found him foolishly transparent as he stared at his latest Instagram post taken at a bbq place that Mark can recognise just from the limited background in the picture. Next to the smiling Jinyoung is a gloomy Jackson, probably unaware of the moment being captured and, in the caption, Jinyoung has so purposely written ‘ _Out with grumpy. Let’s cheer up and eat well.’_ The way Jinyoung seems to be glaring at Mark through the screen makes him sick. His body freezes for a short moment when he reads the first of only a couple of comments.

 _‘Thank you for the company. It didn’t cure my sadness but I admit it made me happy for a moment.’_ Surprised is the last thing Mark should be seeing as the man was always so boldly honest from the day they met to the day Mark foolishly let him go like it was nothing - and now he is right back where he started two months ago.

Acting completely on immediate, raw emotion, he calls Jinyoung maybe to yell, maybe to cry, maybe to just have him there; Mark is not sure but when is he ever these days? It takes a few rings but he picks up and says ‘hi’ like he knows why Mark called.

“You are so mean.”

He is on a flight 48 hours later in a distressed mess. The only thing that has kept him sane during this time has been talking to Jinyoung over the phone and the comfort of his mother’s arms as he apologised to her a million times. Going back and forth, throwing his life away, again and again, makes him feel like a terrible son and makes him look out the round window at the clouds below just to wonder where the hell he will end up. Something tells him that he will be solving that equation very soon and dear god does he hope that y at the end equals Jackson. The name he has been so immaculately avoiding makes him shutter now just as it did in the early days when there was nothing but sex and dragged out talks that made work and/or studies a living hell the next day. Come to think of it, Mark would still choose to talk to Jackson over a decent night’s sleep any day. Even though their senses kicked in at some point and they both faced their responsibilities, it was something he and Jackson continuously loved to do. They would always end up somewhere oddly unorthodox like the rug in front of the sofa or even the bathroom once. They would both hold onto a glass of red wine and Jackson would periodically comment on the taste or give his glass a look of appreciation after a sip. Those moments always gave Mark a chance to simply admire the man before him and silently congratulate himself for being able to keep such a star all to himself.

Mark would often brag about his boyfriend shamelessly to other people until he got caught and was served a firm punch to his upper arm. Once they were alone, Jackson would bring it up with his head shaking like a disappointed parent. He could keep shaking and shaking his head but his smile stayed plastered unwillingly to his face. How well Mark remembered the way he would be kissed so passionately moments later. How well Mark remembered the fluttering feeling in his chest.

The more Mark nears the man and the place he left, the more his heart aches unpleasantly. At first, it just itches at the memories but it blows up to its rightful proportions along the flight; so much so that he pulls his knees all the way up to his chin with a tight clutch on his jeans. To think he left a future so bright out of silly fear. The hope of restoring it forms a pit of warmth amidst the pain. It becomes Mark’s focus point until he can leave the aircraft and is greeted by Jinyoung’s warm embrace at the arrival gates.

“Thanks for coming,” Mark sighs into Jinyoung’s shoulder.

“That’s what friends are for. I’m glad to have you back.” In the late morning, the two of them head back to the place that used to be Mark’s to leave his luggage and eat something before Mark has a very important conversation on his schedule. The food goes down but he barely tastes it with nerves distracting him greatly from focusing on anything else.

Jinyoung offers to drive him there but the walk is not long and it seems like a fitting time to think about what he wants to say as if he has not spent the last few days doing exactly that.

And Mark thinks about where to start, wonders where it will end and makes up a whole in between in his head that might be more of a dream-scenario than a reality. As much as he has thought this through, he feels far from prepared. The long flight has stripped him of his best energy, he has brought no token of peace and his appearance is a mess. At least he is wearing the kind of jeans that Jackson has always said he liked on him. With all of this in his mind’s whirlwind, he rings the familiar doorbell and takes a moment to allow his heart to race all the way to LA and back. Thanks to Jinyoung being a willing middleman – _meddleman more like_ – Mark is expected and gets buzzed in without a word. The familiar stairway that he used to say leads to heaven, feels a lot different today. He makes it to the familiar door that still has that scratch in it from when Jackson was pressed up against it and the zipper in the arm of Mark’s leather jacket dug into the wooden surface. He puts light pressure to the half-opened door and listens to the shuffling coming from the kitchen. The homey scent that hits his nostrils fills him with the kind of nostalgia that comes with regret.

Shoes off, he moves towards the sound with his heart beating hard enough for it to be thudding in his ears. In the kitchen, his heart must have stopped altogether for a split second as his whole body goes into lockdown at the sight of his ex-boyfriend’s gorgeous figure standing by the coffee machine with his back turned. “Uhm, hi,” Mark says in a quiet voice followed by a gulp. “Long time no see.” Jackson spins around and makes eye contact for the longest second before diverting his eyes to anything but Mark’s.

“Long time no see,” he repeats just as quietly as though they would break their fragile hearts by speaking too loudly. “I’ve made coffee. I’ll bring it in.” Mark nods solemnly and makes his way obediently to the soft, brown sofa that they have worn down together. There are two cups set up already and a plate of Jackson’s signature homemade cookies. Another wave of hurt rushes over the villain in the room and it opens his mouth without warning.

“It… This is great. You didn’t have to.”

“I was thinking about making them anyways. I haven’t made them since,” Jackson hesitates, “since we had that sex escapade weekend.” The two of them crack the smallest of smiles as Jackson sits down on the opposite side of the not-so-long sofa.

“That was some of the absurd fun I’ve ever had.”

“Very weird at times for sure.”

“Oh, yeah, the leash… I wasn’t feeling that.” Jackson’s eyes crinkle so genuinely for a short moment that Mark has to smile too before he once again is reminded that he let that smile go. He let this whole man go. _Why’d I leave you?_ Mark thinks to himself but finds it too difficult to voice.

“At least we gave it a try and now we know.” With that, Jackson grows serious and his eyes look hurt down at his lap. “I was sure everything was perfect back then.”

“Jackson—” Mark tries but is cut off. “Mark just… Give me a second. I don’t want my feelings being played with. I need to know if this flying over here thing is serious. I need to know if you would ever pull this on me again.” Although Jackson is always frank about everything, it is rare for him to speak so sharply. The harsh tone cuts at Mark’s insides until it bleeds.

“I’m sorry. This is just… It feels so complicated but when I think it through, I know it isn’t. I thought I was saving myself from being hurt again but instead, I hurt both you and myself. I realised the second I had said the words and watched you leave that there is nothing that links us to my experiences in the past. You were mine because you made me so completely happy from head to toe; anywhere and always. I have been swimming around in my own regret for the past months and I am so sorry.” On this rare occasion, Jackson has been silenced completely. With his eyes searching for something in Mark’s he just sits there in all the quiet and takes in every word that Mark poured out and flooded the living room with. “I understand if I ruined this for us forever but don’t think I won’t repeat how out of it and completely idiotic I have been a million times to you before I give up. I never stopped loving you and I doubt I ever will no matter how far I run from it,” Mark takes a breath, “and I can’t promise you a perfect boyfriend. I still struggle but you make it hurt so much less and I know that now—" Mark stops himself before starting again. The hopeful kind of curiosity falls onto Jackson’s face. “Jackson, I’m just a complete idiot, sitting in front of the love of his life, asking him to give him a second chance.” Jackson’s chuckle awakens Mark’s heart and makes it reach for the sun in that smile. “So, if you could just bear with me, I will devote the rest of my life to treating you better.”

“You say you can’t promise me a perfect boyfriend but then you serve up a speech like that.” Jackson kicks Mark lightly with a foot wearing a yellow sock that Mark recalls buying for him once.

“So, Jackson, can I be your boyfriend again? Bear in mind that the no option may lead me into a great depression,” he says this jokingly but the serious undertone is traceable to a trained ear like Jackson’s, “and I can’t live another day without you or I think my heart might give up on me.”

“I despise how I can’t despise you.” Jackson shuffles closer to Mark on the sofa and pulls him closer by his collar. “Listen here, Mark, I need you just as much as you need me, so please, never again,” he whispers close enough that Mark feels his hot breath tingle on his lips.

“Never ever.” Confetti should be falling from the sky as Jackson presses his much-missed lips onto Mark’s. Lost for two long months, Mark has finally found his way back to his castle where Jackson is greeting him at the gate with open arms. This is what Mark wants for the rest of his life. This is home.

Like riding a bike – or a dick – they fall back into their old ways and it is comfortable; so comfortable that Mark begins to worry as soon as the next morning when he wakes to an empty bed and a mouth-watering smell coming from the kitchen. “Good morning, sunshine,” Jackson turns to say at the sound of Mark’s ritual morning grumbling. His smile is so genuine that it almost reopens the only newly healed wound. Only muttering a good morning in return, Jackson must have felt the edge of trouble poking into his skin because his eyes confront Mark immediately. “Mark…”

“I can’t just run away and come back to the life I left behind— Why’d you forgive me?” Jackson’s hint of a smile turns to solemn love that crosses its arms as if to make an unspoken point.

“If my heart was capable of detaching itself from yours, it would have been seeing you out the moment you entered.” If words could leave bruises; Mark would look fifty shades of purple despite asking for it. “But, Mark, I’m not angry because I love you and I know you; I know that you needed time and that this may actually have been good for you and for me. I have a feeling that this will strengthen us both. To answer your question: I forgave you because there is no me without you, not anymore, not since the day we first met.” Timidly, Mark reaches out a hand for Jackson to hold and he grabs it with both his and a gentle squeeze. “I’ll always be waiting for you.”

“You will never have to wait again. This time it’s forever and I mean it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I'm publishing something after an all too long dry streak. I really hope you guys enjoyed this!! There's more to come <3


	3. Markjin - Temperature of Talking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Repost from my 'K-pop mini one shots' work.  
> This was actually an English essay that I made for class - and got an A for lmao - but I used Markjin's names so here it is in my GOT7 ship collection. Enjoy :)
> 
> In which Jinyoung is lonely and finds solace in the sea while Mark knows much better.  
> Word count: >1,1K

There are waves brushing over his feet. When he crumbles his toes together, they submerge into the wet sand. He cuddles them in as deep as they can go. In here, the waves only wash up to his ankles. Out there, they grow tall enough to wash him away if he would be brave enough to test their forces. It tempts him at times. He sighs enviously at the blue horizon. The sea and the sky blend together so well.

He has been singing that Korean song about loneliness to himself ever since he saw the moon peep out on the naked sky. The lights on his bike are broken, so he keeps an eye out. The tacky Hawaiian shirt and the ghastly shorts make him feel vulnerable on the deserted road. He thinks it looks cold even on a summer night.

Jinyoung likes living on the Isle of Wight on days when he can stand at the very beginning of the never-ending sea after sundown and not get cold feet, even though he always does eventually.

Junior, they like to call him here because apparently, Jinyoung is too hard to pronounce. So, when Mark calls for him by his real name, it takes a second for him to respond in the heavy darkness.

“It’s 1:25 am.”

“Hm.”

“Why are you barefoot?”

“I’m in England and it’s warm for once. I’m celebrating.” Mark looks amused. Jinyoung uses his hands to poorly straighten his yellow shirt with the vast red flowers. He has never been to Hawaii.

“I made too much hot chocolate.” Mark is home alone. Taking a teenager to visit the cheek pinching aunt for ten days is not an option once they are old enough to say no.

“I’ll settle my bike and be right at your service.” To have a neighbour, who does not eye him up and down every day and call him Junior, is more than he hoped for when he came here last year. His bike is rushed into the backyard with clumsy movements. He crawls over the fence. It earns him a cut on his exposed shin that he ignores and goes to wave at Mark through the window by the back porch.

“I like your shirt.” By the size of it, it could be his father’s. It far from fits him but he hopes that one day it might. The chances of that are slim, he is not going to grow much taller.

“Did you go to the beach?” Jinyoung warms his hands on the full mug. It says ‘SHINee’ on it and Jinyoung wears a confused expression. “My sister talked to your sister.” The lonely song re-occupies his mind. His mind hurts less today than it did yesterday. The ocean washed away all his most aching questions.

“Ah, I see.” They sip their drinks in silence and both burn their tongues from impatience of the nervous kind.

“I did go to the beach.” The sipping stops.

“Isn’t it a little late for that?”

“It’s like a black hole at night. It absorbs me better that way.”

“What do you need a black hole for?”

“It takes me for who I am.” Mark licks his lips. A strand of his hair that is a confusing mix of blonde and brown falls in front of his eye. “Am I crazy?” Mark shakes his head and the strand of hair shakes with him.

“I have a place like that too.” He hesitates, staring into the brown warmth in his cup. It has started to form a layer of skin at the top. “I can show you if you want to see?” Jinyoung nods carefully.

Mark takes him up the stairs and into his bathroom. “Here?” Mark just smiles secretively and it wins Jinyoung’s curiosity. He turns on the tap and Jinyoung watches as the bathtub fills up. “This?” Mark hums.

“Step into my black hole,” Mark offers as he pulls his socks off. Jinyoung’s feet are dirty after going barefoot all evening, so the water gets a bit of colour when his feet make contact. He must admit that the warmth and stillness make for a good tender atmosphere that calms his thoughts compared to the cold and rowdy ocean. His thoughts seem centred here in the proportioned tub instead of being spread across the whole ocean where they never seem to fit. They always wash a little too far away. Mark steps in and closes the tap when the water reaches their ankles. He sits down on the tub’s edge and Jinyoung feels that he must follow suit for the full experience. They stare at the white tiles in front of them.

“I can see why this could work.”

“This wall becomes my canvas of frustration. Each tile holds a story or an emotion that I‘ve cast away in here. The warm water helps them run out.” Jinyoung nods at the tiles. He gets it. He gets them, the frustrations.

Mark’s eyes land on Jinyoung’s leg. From the cut, two red lines have made their way down his slim leg. His hand reaches for the shower handle. The water feels nice on his leg. It stings a bit but the atmosphere makes up for it. It is funny, Jinyoung thinks, how Mark knows as much as the sea or the bathroom tiles. He knows the words before they are spoken, and maybe Jinyoung knows Mark’s words too.

It is 2:02 am and Mark suggests that Jinyoung stays.

The water has turned lukewarm, so now they sit in front of their cold chocolates. They are no good anymore and Jinyoung finds it chilly to be barefoot now. Mark gets him a pair of socks. “They match your shirt.” They do and it manages to make Jinyoung laugh. “Jolly good.” Mr Owen often says that in class, still, Jinyoung believes he has it from watching BBC at noon all summer.

“I think I have an old shirt like that somewhere.” Jinyoung waits cross-legged on the teal bedsheets while Mark disappears into his wardrobe. “I found it!” He comes out with blue waves covering his upper body. It fits Mark a lot better than Jinyoung’s fits him. “Mine has the waves but you’re the one swimming in yours.” Mark chuckles. “It works for you somehow.” Jinyoung starts to see the charm in the shirt he has been wearing for five days straight.

Days are blurry lately. He has been going to the deep waters for a long time but Mark has shown him the charm of bathtub paddling. He wants to go to Hawaii now, where the waters are as warm as in Mark’s bathtub.

Their shirts do not blend well but they do. Since when has it been possible to hear the things never said out loud?

Mark knows, and maybe Jinyoung knows too.

It is 2:34 am and Jinyoung intends to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm buying myself some time with these reused ones but more new stories are coming soon! :D


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